


Love Letters

by ragtags



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, just a short fic, just a short one sided piece, love letter, turn washington's spies - Freeform, turn week, turn:washington's spies, we gotta get that hewlett love in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragtags/pseuds/ragtags
Summary: She is truly a remarkable woman. A goddess in her own rights. I have...spoken to her about this. It is not something I confess willingly. You see, I am a man who serves only two beings in this world: The King and God. And when I say this a confession, I do so with the passion of someone who has only known of love once before.I am fond of her.
Relationships: Edmund Hewlett & Anna Strong, Edmund Hewlett/Anna Strong
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

> It's Turn Week 2020! Wrote this quick little fic for day 1 for my favorite Loyalist Edmund Hewlett and his soft love towards one Anna Strong. Thanks for reading!

_3 April, 1777_

_I wish I knew how to start this. Then again, when have I ever addressed you in such a manner that has ever been correct? Perhaps I should start from the beginning, as I always do._

_The nights here in Setauket have been extraordinary. Much clearer and brighter are the stars here than in Scotland. I admit, I find that alone to be something new and breathtaking, seeing how far we are from the arctic circle. One would be...logical to assume that the closer to the North you are, the closer the stars may be to a casual onlooker. Perhaps it’s merely because Setauket is so rural a place; so untainted by smogs and fires found in cities that it provides a better view. I do not know, nor do I plan to assume anything different._

_How has life been, you ask? Well. It is hard for me to say. Having arrived to this hamlet of a town one year ago, I find that it has been very much a wild place in need of taming. I suppose perhaps it is why the King and God have sent me here. I am to provide law and order, and to teach these people that there is a much better way to life than by treason like that of the Continental Congress. I will say that I have done my best. Richard has been much help in keeping the citizens happy. I believe that is what is needed; happy townsfolk result in gaining trust. Gaining trust will result in law and order. It is something I truly believe is necessary if we are to win this war._

_Oh! And an update on Mrs. Strong. She is, as ever, delightfully charming in every sense. Today, she said hello to me while I was visiting the tavern. She said she has not been able to stop thinking about our rendezvous the other night when she visited Whitehall. I showed her just a tiny fraction of the universe, and I encouraged her should she ever wish to see them again, I would be more than happy to show her something truly remarkable. I shan’t get ahead of myself, but I do hope to see her again._

_I must confess I am no poet, but I cannot stop thinking about her valor in the face of those hideous Rebels. The way she looked, swimming against the fast current of the Long Island Sound just to return to us. She is truly a remarkable woman. A goddess in her own rights. I have...spoken to her about this. It is not something I confess willingly. You see, I am a man who serves only two beings in this world: The King and_

_God. And when I say this a confession, I do so with the passion of someone who has only known of love once before._

_I am fond of her._

_And I do not mean this in a simple man’s terms. No; no I am fond of her in a way that is rather perplexing. She is not like any woman I have ever met. She is fierce; she speaks her mind with passion and honor and such elegance. Yet she is delicate like a dewy meadow in the spring. Her face shines like the morning glow of a springtime sun and her tenacity is that of a lion. If I am frank; she deserves better than what she has been dealt._

_I...I have tried, you see, to express these feelings, but again I must confess that I do not believe I am the right man for her. It is always taxing to love a soldier and I do not wish to burden her with any more than what I already have. Any more than what...we, the good Kingdom of England has. She is a true Loyalist, and she has served King and Country and God more than I dare say. But I do wish, in any capacity, to do right by her._

_With all my heart, I wish to do right by this woman who has done nothing wrong, and continues to deal with the hand that she has been given by God._

_I do apologize for rambling. It is not usually in my nature to be so struck by something or, quite frankly, someone who is nothing to me and yet somehow everything._

_Because you see, ever since we stood together under that never ending sky and stared up at the stars; everything in my life finally made sense. I understood why I was sent here. I understand now, I believe, why fate, or God, or whatever it may be, has sent me here._

_I’m here for her._

_I’m here to be there for her. Not...not in the sense of perhaps being her knight, although I would be remiss to say I do not mind the prospect. I do not think someone like Anna Strong needs someone to watch over her. She is, as her name suggests: Strong. She is capable. She is...an enigma. One that I wish nothing more than to spend my time with, and to try and be there for her when and as she needs and in turn, perhaps she could teach me how to be...a better man? Yes. Yes, I believe that is it._

_She makes me want to be a better man and she makes me want to do right by her._

_Oh, it’s all terribly confusing. My heart aches to think of her living above that tavern in a small room._

_Perhaps I will ask her to join me in Whitehall._

_No. Not perhaps. I will._

_In any case, I believe that’s all for now._

_Until we meet again._

The chair creaked as tired muscles reclined against the wooden frame. Edmund Hewlett sighed, eyes darting over the words still drying by candlelight as he took it all in. It was good, he thought, to reflect on the day. It helped him to remember. It was important that he remember.

‘Remembering is only half the battle, my dear Richard,’ he had said once when he had first arrived to Setauket, ‘remembering can only get you so far. But writing! Now that, that can help aid you when your brain forgets a detail.’

Edmund smiled.


End file.
